Jimmy and I went swimming yesterday. It was very strange. We rounded the corner from Brixton Road to Brixton Station Approach and were met by flurries of snow.
Afterwards we caught the bus to Clapham. I cannot remember at what stage I became aware of the snow as being a settled thing. Perhaps there wasn't any when we initially got there. We ate in Gastro which is quirky and worthwhile. Then it began to snow. Enough for me to write my initials on the table outside. As I was putting my coat on the woman on the table next to me said something about the snow being heavy, which I replied something like, it's not too bad, it will get worse, before turning round to see a veritable snowstorm outside the window.
On the way to the Tube photos were taken, but only with my crappy phone camera
Further photos were taken when we got off the bus. Then when I got home I changed to my proper camera.
We settled down for a night's TV viewing; when we went to bed I noticed that my footsteps in the garden had been covered over.
I was awoken by the alarm, and then by being brought a cup of tea, and finally by a scraping noise outside. My father used to get annoyed by pensioners who misguidedly scrape away the snow thinking it will clear it, only to create a surface that will freeze over and be even more treacherous. Dear Reader, I married one...(well, not married, but you know what I mean). I was not happy, not least because it reduced the aesthetic appeal of the garden.
I realised that this is the heaviest snowfall ever since I've lived in Gert Cottage. It might have been heavier in 2003 when we were in Sharm, sitting round the pool in our swimwear laughing bout the TV pictures from back home.
I read subsequently that this is the worst in London since 1991. I remember it well. I was living in Westcliff but had been on audit to the Isle of Man. Weather conditions were perfect at Ronaldsway. sunny, dry, and mild, but we were delayed a long time because of snow at Heathrow. Eventually we were flown to Southampton - being very short haul we were given low priority in favour of long haul. I could not get a train back to Essex that night - it was, famously, 'the wrong kind of snow'.
Jimmy went out to get milk only to find that both Tesco and Happy Shopper are shut. He says people are falling down on the pavements (wrong shoes, I opine) and cars are slipping on the roads (shouldn't be in a car of you can't cope with the road conditions, I opine).
I read on the web that the London bus network is suspended (as of 11.30 there are a small number of routes in Central London). I have a hair appointment later. I feel foolish ringing up to ask 'are you open?' yet I have tried several times with no reply - so not so foolish!
Ringing from the landline, obviously because the mobile network won't work! I have to say that I am incredibly pissed off. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not having a go at the individuals who run my hairdressers; they have presumably made a decision based upon facts not apparent to me - like an absence of buses in Streatham - but my hair is seriously in need of being done. I thought maybe I'd go swimming instead. And the website says Brixton Rec is open. But the thought of the walk down there (And even worse, back up hill) doesn't thrill me. I know it sounds ludicrous, but although I quite enjoy walking, I do not like it on the concrete pavements of London, and especially not up Brixton Hill, which is sad because I live at the top of Brixton Hill. I'm pondering whether to cycle down to Tooting Common (purely in the service of blogging).
And I can't get a satellite signal, either, which I assume is weather-related. The pissy thing is that I can't even access the menu of programmes already saved to the Hard Drive. Well, at least I am not being forced to watch the Jeremy Kye show, unlike a friend of mine, who has illness as an excuse.
